


blossoming alone over you

by gealbhan



Category: Deltarune (Video Game)
Genre: Anxiety, Bonding, Confessions, Crushes, F/F, Fluff and Humor, Getting Together, Mild Spoilers, Pining, Post-Canon, Scary Movies, Sharing Clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-19 04:04:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16526966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gealbhan/pseuds/gealbhan
Summary: Kris has played a lot of pranks on Noelle before.This is a fact of life: Kris is a fan of pranks, and sometimes their pranks skirt the line between harmless and, well,not. But this time…





	blossoming alone over you

**Author's Note:**

> UH. SO. i wanted to de-stress from my bigger nano projects (it snowballed quickly, like all things tend to do with me. especially lesbians-related) and i have been feeling.... Very Very Gay and also i owe toby fox my entire life, so here we are!
> 
> mild tw for mentions of typical horror movie violence -- nothing graphic or non-canon-typical, but i feel like it's worth mentioning
> 
> title is from "pink in the night" by mitski! i hope you enjoy!

Kris has played a lot of pranks on Noelle before.

This is a fact of life: Kris is a fan of pranks, and sometimes their pranks skirt the line between harmless and, well, _not_ —the one with the hand and the ketchup, and that one time they’d hidden under Noelle’s bed to scare her, if she had to name any that toed that line. But this time…

This is—

Noelle squeezes the edge of the table she and Susie are seated across from each other at. After school today, Kris had lured them each to the diner under false pretenses and nudged them into these opposing seats before sneaking away. Noelle doesn’t honestly know when that was. All she knows is that her bouncing leg is rattling the table and everything on it—and that she’s not sure what she’s going to do when she sees Kris tomorrow. If she’s alive then.

They’ve been sitting in silence since Kris left. Susie had been startled to see Noelle at the diner, but for the past few minutes, she’s been tearing into her burger with reckless abandon. Noelle, on the other hand, hasn’t laid a finger on her berry salad.

“Um,” she says when the quiet becomes tangible. Susie lifts her gaze, blinking and licking crumbs off her mouth, and Noelle devolves into incoherent squeaks. She manages to get out a mouse-volume, “Uh, um, so—wh-what have you been up to, uh, recently?”

“Speak the hell up.” Noelle jumps, but there seems to be no actual malice in the words—or Susie’s face, for that matter. It takes her by surprise.

Noelle has known (or at least hoped) for some time now that Susie’s bark is worse than her bite. Kris had told her she was a nice person, too, even if Noelle doesn’t know if she quite trusts Kris’ judgment. Still, hearing about Susie’s gold heart and suspecting its existence deep down is different than witnessing it. Noelle recalls telling Kris to pay for her funeral if she died upon speaking to Susie.

Sweating profusely, she clears her throat, aware she’s been staring in a way some wouldn’t think of as polite. “S-sorry, I’m—I’ll try. Um… how’s your food?”

Susie takes another bite, then flashes her rather unnerving teeth in a grin. “It’s the best burger I’ve had in my entire goddamn life. You want some?”

“I’m a vegetarian, so, um, no thank you.”

A shrug. “More for me.” Susie pauses mid-swallow to glance down to Noelle’s untouched bowl. Her eyes shift this way and that as she says, “Is—uh, is your food good, too?”

Noelle flushes. Is it her imagination, or is Susie’s own face looking a little darker? “I—well—” She picks up her fork, entire body still shaking, and shoves some speared greens and berries into her mouth. The berries aren’t as sweet as she’d expected, but it’s still good, and she tells Susie this.

“Cool,” says Susie. Then she falls silent, picking at her collar, and that reminds Noelle—

“I really, um—I r-really like your jacket,” she blurts.

Susie wipes her crumb-ridden mouth and looks down at said jacket. “Oh, this old thing?”

It _is_ an old thing, Noelle has to admit. There are as many tears in it as there are in Susie’s ever-dirty jeans, which are designed to have them, and some seams have visibly had to be stitched back together. The once-vibrant color is faded with time and use. Not to mention how oversized it is—it’s too big for even Susie, but in a good way. A flattering way.

Noelle is overthinking this. It isn’t an unfamiliar realization. She prods her salad, swirling her fork around without eating anything, and coughs. “Yeah, um—it’s really—it looks really comfortable.”

“It is!” says Susie, baring her teeth. She looks at where one of her elbows is perched upon the table and, frowning, tugs at the sleeve. “Do you think it’d look even more badass without the sleeves?”

“Without the—um, I’m sorry, what?”

“Without the sleeves.” As Noelle continues to blink blankly, Susie drums her free fingers on the tabletop. “Y’know, like—don’t you ever get this, I dunno, impulse to get rid of all the long sleeves on your clothes?”

Noelle stares into space. She wanted to compliment Susie’s fashion choices, not receive this oddly charged question.

“Guess not, then,” mutters Susie, who proceeds to shove the remainder of her burger (a good quarter) into her mouth and chew with an animal-like ferocity.

Noelle takes a sip of water, deep enough she has to swallow several times.

“Hey,” cuts in a familiar voice, and Noelle—after jumping out of her skin and almost spitting water across the table—looks up to see Catti looking at her phone. Or, well, she’s looking at a notepad, but her phone is clearly hidden on top of it. “The waiter who was serving you before left for the day, so I guess I’m your waitress n—” Her gaze shifts from her phone to the table. Her expression doesn’t change. “—ow. Oh, it’s you two.”

A long pause, during which Catti looks at Susie and Susie looks back. Noelle looks out the window to avoid eye contact with either of them. Instead, she watches their interaction in the glass reflection.

“Susie, didn’t you get banned from here?” asks Catti.

Susie picks up a single fry and swallows it whole. “I’m just banned from Free Ham Sandwich Day. Is it Free Ham Sandwich Day?”

The energy she exerts is indescribable but definitely intimidating, and Noelle hurries to stuff her face with salad so she isn’t expected to say anything.

Catti taps something out on her phone. “No, but my boss says no one who can eat as many ham sandwiches in one sitting as you is in their right mind. I don’t care,” she adds, rolling her eyes. “I just came over to ask if you needed anything. …Do you?”

Susie’s eyes have narrowed a considerable amount. She picks up another fry—Noelle follows her gaze to the counter, behind which Catti’s boss stands, looking the other way. The perfect target for a projectile. Catti twists her pen between her claws and waits for an answer.

To her own surprise, Noelle is the one to make the first move. She pushes her half-eaten salad aside and stands. She slams her hands onto the tabletop—the ensuing sound is loud enough to draw the attention of everyone else in the diner.

Oh. She’s made a mistake.

Noelle’s ears burn as she sinks back down into her seat. She fishes a handful of gold out of her pocket and leaves it on the table before she can forget. Catti blinks, looking rather like she wants to be somewhere far, far away.

“S-so Susie has been coming here for a—um, a long time, right,” says Noelle, crossing her arms. She doesn’t wait for a response before she barrels on—“She’s—okay, so she might not be, uh, the best customer, a-and she might have taken too much advantage of Free Ham Sandwich Day, but is that a crime? It shouldn’t be! And as the mayor’s daughter, I think—” At this point, she has no control over her own words or volume. “I think Susie should—I mean, I-I think _anyone_ should be able to eat all the free ham sandwiches they want!”

Silence rings out through the diner. Catti’s eyebrows lift. Noelle is filled with… regret.

“So, um, goodbye,” she says, grabbing Susie by the sleeve and tugging her to her feet.

Susie seems amenable to this turn of events. She flips an expressionless Catti the bird and a devilish grin, then latches onto Noelle’s sleeve in turn. “Smell you later, fuckers,” she shouts, making a parent in one corner clap their hands over their kid’s ears. _“Scatter!”_ she hisses to Noelle, turning around, and—

Noelle bolts.

She runs the fastest she’s ever run in her short life. She hasn’t run at her full potential even while running cross country, but here she is, utilizing the adrenaline rush and heat of the moment to dart out of the diner and onto the sidewalk, legs pumping at a dizzying speed. After a solid forty seconds, her legs quiver like jelly beneath her and she finds herself having to cherish every gasp for breath she gets. As they keep running, she lets Susie take the lead.

(Her fatigue makes for a nice excuse, and literal actual reason, but the fact that it lets Susie pull her around while they’re almost holding hands is an added bonus.)

Two minutes and several blocks later, they seem to realize in unison that there’s no _point_ in running. No one is on their tail. It’s probable that no one cares enough to be on their tail. Susie slows down as Noelle comes to a complete stop.

She almost collapses with the crushing exhaustion and strain, but Susie keeps her upright long enough to situate them beneath the shade of a tree. Noelle sighs at the refreshing breeze.

Bending and planting her hands on her knees, Noelle blinks away the fuzziness obscuring her vision. Her valiant efforts to catch her breath are dashed by the coughing and sputtering that won’t seem to stop, but after a couple moments, she gets the hang of it.

Somehow, Susie seems unaffected by their exercise. She leans against the tree’s trunk, one boot planted up on it. The air rustles her hair as she breathes at a normal pace and sweats (presumably) a normal amount. Noelle both envies and admires this.

They make eye contact when Noelle straightens back up, and—Noelle can’t help it. She bursts out laughing. Susie’s eyes crinkle around the edges, mouth twitching, and then she does the same.

Susie clutches her abdomen as she laughs deep from her stomach, head thrown back. Her uncontained laughter sends Noelle into stitches—which are complicated in turn by the butterflies filling her chest and stomach. Susie’s laughter is adorable and contagious and making Noelle’s heartbeat pick up at an unhealthy speed. Passersby give them odd looks; two girls losing their heads over seemingly nothing shouldn’t be the oddest thing anyone’s seen in Hometown, but it still isn’t an everyday sight.

Five minutes later, they’re calming down. Susie chokes on her last couple laughs, covering her mouth. Noelle smiles.

“I’m—I’m sorry about… all that,” she says, still panting.

Susie stuffs her hands in her pockets with a blasé shrug. “Eh, whatever. Food was shitty, anyway.” Noelle seems to recall her saying her burger was the best she’d ever had, but she says nothing of it. “And, uh, you were pretty cool back there.”

It’s so quiet that Noelle thinks she’s misheard. She glances bashfully between Susie and the grass they’re standing upon, then reaches up to pat Susie’s shoulder. Comforting someone taller than her is a struggle.

“Um,” she says, regretting this instantly when Susie turns to face her and her mind goes blank. _No! You can do this!!_ she tells herself, squaring her shoulders. “Um, I really do know you can get unbanned from Free Ham Sandwich Day someday soon! I-I believe in you! Or something?”

For a beat, mild confusion is the only emotion on Susie’s face, paired with her rapid blinking. Before Noelle can bury her head in her hands, Susie’s face splits in an ear-to-ear grin. She claps Noelle on the shoulder hard enough that Noelle wheezes. (Though that’s not a hard thing to do, and Noelle’s prone to spontaneous wheezing fits when she’s within a yard of Susie anyway.)

“I already know that, but thanks for your vote of confidence, deer girl.” Susie’s hand lingers on Noelle’s shoulder, making Noelle wheeze more. Susie’s face sobers as she glances across Noelle’s face. Oh god, Noelle has no idea what her expression is doing right now. “Hey, wanna hang out at my place?”

 _What_ , is the only thing that goes through Noelle’s head for several seconds. Then her thoughts are filled only with, _I’m going to die???_

Susie wants—

Susie wants to hang out with her.

At her place.

Noelle’s brain short-circuits, and she feels her eyes spinning around in her head and head rushing to her ears. “Yes!” she says, squeaky and not far from an outright yell. “I-I would like to—to hang out at—um, at your place!”

Susie’s grin sharpens, and she claps Noelle’s shoulder again. “Nice. I’ll lead the way.”

Noelle wonders what she’s getting herself into.

♦

In only her darkest hours will Noelle admit that, like most of her class, she’d pictured something terrifying when she’d thought about where Susie lived. (It hadn’t been that often that she’d thought about it, honest. Just when Susie’d invited her—and, okay, maybe she’d entertained the thought more than once in the past. It isn’t like she’d made a habit of it! It had just been… fun to think about.)

She’s a little disappointed when it turns out to be, rather than something like a spooky mansion or the bunker on the outskirts of town, a regular apartment complex. Susie leads her up several eerily quiet flights of stairs to her fourth-story apartment.

“You live by yourself?” says Noelle while Susie searches for her keys, which seem to have been lost in the dimension of her jacket pockets.

Susie stops to make a face. “Yeah. For now, anyway.” She turns back around and must see whatever Noelle’s expression is, because she scuffs her boot and says, eyes on the ground, “Let’s not talk about it, okay?”

Noelle catches the threatening undertone and nods.

Two minutes later, when Susie unearths her key and lets them in, she finds out that the interior is just as underwhelmingly normal. It’s still remarkably Susie—piles of laundry pepper the carpet, along with a thin coating of what appears to be abandoned homework assignments and miscellaneous household objects. Posters of heavy metal bands and violent video games cover the dark purple (almost black) walls.

“Um, I like your place,” says Noelle.

Susie grins. “It’s so cool, right?”

“It’s rrrr… eally cool.” In more than one way, she realizes when she hears the heavier catch in her voice—a shiver racks her body, and she wraps her arms around herself. She should’ve worn a bulkier sweater. “Is—uh, is there any kind of h-heating?”

“I—” Susie scratches the side of her neck. “I can’t pay for it, so no. Why, you cold?”

Noelle stays silent, but her chattering teeth and visible shuddering give it away, because a line on Susie’s temple deepens. Noelle’s sheepish eyes drop to the floor. Despite the temperature, she feels herself blushing as Susie just stands there. A moment and some rustling sounds later, a heavy bundle falls around Noelle’s shoulders. She tilts her head into the soft fabric framing her cheek, inhales, and realizes Susie has just given her her own jacket.

“You can borrow this,” Susie tells her, leaving no room for argument. “I don’t get cold that easy, so.”

Noelle glances over to see Susie looking the opposite direction, hands in her jean pockets. Noelle smiles (a beam, some might call it) and sticks her arms into the sleeves. “Thank you, Susie.”

If the jacket had been large on Susie, then it’s comically gargantuan on petite Noelle. It falls past Noelle’s knee-length skirt; she has to roll up the sleeves as soon as she pulls them on, because otherwise they dangle well beyond her fingers. Even so, she relaxes into the warmth. It’s as comfortable and warm as it had looked.

Susie coughs. Noelle drops her fingers from the buttons she’d been debating whether to seal. “Sorry!” she squeaks, folding her hands at her waist. “Um, is—is there something you wanna do? S-since we’re, um, in your house.”

“We can watch a movie.” Susie gestures toward a shelf in the corner nearest to them, filled to the brim with cases. “You probably aren’t into the video games I have, right?”

Noelle glances at the various posters. Deadly weapons and the color red are a reoccurring theme. She decides not to comment, and instead says, “What movies do you have?”

Susie’s mouth twitches. Belatedly, Noelle wonders how dangerous this decision is, and also if she’s going to die today, though that’s more of an ongoing concern. “You sure you can handle my movie collection, deer girl?”

Instead of answering, Susie strolls over to the shelf and picks out a single case to show Noelle—it’s for something called _Bloodstained 2: The Bloodwakening_ , which is written in blood red Chiller. The font lessens its impact somewhat. Other than the title, the only other thing on the cover is a bloodshot eye in the center.

Noelle swallows her distaste, both for the film’s probable content and the horrible graphic design of its cover. “D-do you have anything… less bloody?”

“Dammit, I thought you’d say that,” says Susie, wrinkling her nose, but she puts _Bloodstained 2_ back on the shelf.

She peruses her other selections. As Noelle hovers, wringing her hands to have something to do with them, Susie runs her fingers over the row beneath the one _Bloodstained 2_ had been on. Every once in a while, she’ll slide something out halfway, then shake her head and put it back. It takes five minutes for her to come up with a suitable option.

Noelle leans down. _Bad Time_ , says the pale blue font, which is more appealing and easier on the eyes than red Chiller. The rest of the cover is less abstract but still pretty vague—it consists of a gradient background and, in the foreground, a blood-streaked dagger’s reflection of its wielder’s crimson eye.

“Okay, so it’s got _some_ blood,” says Susie when Noelle’s gaze pans back up to her. “But it isn’t another slasher. It’s all—fuck, what’s the word—” Her nose scrunches as she thinks, and then she gives up with a bored wave of the hand. “It has lots of metaphors and symbolism and all that boring shit.”

“I-I—okay, I’ll, um, try it,” says Noelle, if only for the way Susie’s face lights up when she does (and because she’s pretty sure there’s no good option here).

“Nice.” Susie heads over to the TV, which is set up on the other side of the room, to set up. Noelle takes the hint and plops down on the flea-bitten couch. Remote in hand, Susie follows.

The movie starts out slow, its plot normal enough that Noelle is suspicious within the first ten minutes. She occupies her jittering hand with picking at a hole in the couch beside her—she doesn’t think Susie will mind, given the state of her apartment and the fact that her eyes are glued to the screen anyway. Noelle’s other hand taps out an absent rhythm on her thigh; she switches it up whenever the background music changes. Which is often. She tries not to kick Susie with her swinging legs, but it still happens every couple minutes. Susie says nothing of it.

Thirty minutes in, Noelle finds herself engrossed. She worries her lip between her teeth, perched forward on her seat as the plot progresses. What she’s seeing is so at odds with the title and the dagger that she thinks maybe someone had mispackaged this one.

Then the colors on the screen invert for a split second, and a gasp sounds as the protagonist turns on a stranger with a knife. Noelle jumps and claps her hands over her mouth to cover a yelp. Her heartbeat kicks up.

Susie’s eyes dart her way, but she returns her gaze back to the screen, where a gruesome stabbing is taking place off-camera, after a second. Noelle drops her hands from her mouth to clutch her knees. She’d expect Susie to be laughing at her reactions by this point—instead, Susie’s face is a mask that Noelle can’t quite comprehend. She looks at her instead of the screen.

And then, too casually, Susie yawns. She stretches with the force of it, shutting her eyes as one of her arms falls around Noelle’s shoulders.

She scoots back before it can rest fully around Noelle, resting her arm across the back of the couch instead, but Noelle still feels the protective weight around her. It’s as clear and present as the jacket she’s wearing. Susie’s hand drops, fingertips grazing Noelle’s shoulder.

Noelle’s breath catches in her throat. By some miracle, she stays still, turning her gaze back to the TV screen but paying no attention to what’s happening on it. Her heartbeat rings through her head. _Oh my god oh my god oh my god,_ she thinks in an endless litany.

She leans toward Susie—an experiment. Her heart surges when Susie’s hold gets a little firmer. The _oh my god_ s grow in number.

Before them, the TV is quiet, no music playing over the still of the protagonist’s face. Noelle reaches up and touches Susie’s hand. Susie swallows audibly.

“I. Uh. So, I think I like you,” she says in the quietest voice Noelle’s ever heard her use—quiet enough that she has to strain to hear it, even though it’s silent aside from it. Then, even quieter, “Like-like.”

Noelle freezes.

 _I think I like you._ It’s a simple sentence, or at least it is in theory—in practice, it’s made Noelle’s entire body stiffen and her hands tremble and shake, a brand new feeling in this context. Susie likes her. Susie _likes_ her!

Noelle’s brain goes on overdrive, rejoicing and panicking at the same time. She feels—she feels—she doesn’t know what she feels. What does _I think I like-like you_ even mean? She should know. It’s an easy enough fact to comprehend: Susie likes her romantically, just like she likes Susie romantically. Except she has no idea why this is a fact.

There are plenty of reasons why she likes Susie; she’s been building a list of them for months. But she can’t think of a single reason why Susie would like her in return.

Susie shrugs, all casual and not like she’s dropped a ginormous feelings bomb on Noelle and her poor, stuttering heart. “So, you know, there’s that.” Pause. The music on-screen picks back up. “You can, uh, say something. If you want.”

Noelle shoves her hands onto her shaking knees and lowers her head, letting her hair shield her face but making sure her antlers don’t bump Susie. That’d be an awkward issue to have on a first date.

 _Oh my god_ is _this a date,_ says some coherent part of Noelle’s mind. She runs over the events of the past hour. _Oh my god it’s a date. Oh my god we could go on more dates. Oh my god. Oh my god, I’ve already died._

She realizes Susie is still looking at her, and she takes a deep, deep breath. Noelle straightens up and forces her shoulders to relax. Susie’s face is open and—and vulnerable, almost, though that seems like an odd adjective to apply to Susie of all people. It’s fitting now; her eyes are wide and soft and expectant, and her mouth is a flat line.

“Um. I-I-I—I like you too,” she says, high-pitched and breathy, and she leans into Susie’s embrace. “I _really_ like you, Susie. You’re—you’re really, really cool, and I’m. Well. Not.” Flushing, Noelle picks at her split ends. “Um, to b-be honest, I’ve—I’ve had a huge crush on you for a while now….”

“You have?” Noelle squints, sure she must be kidding ( _Kris_ noticed, for god’s sake), but Susie’s face is pleasantly surprised. A tiny smile plays across her face as the blue light from the TV flashes over them. “Fuck, I thought—goddammit, this is gonna sound so cheesy,” says Susie, cutting herself off.

Noelle bumps her knee against Susie’s, then flushes at her own boldness. “Ch-cheesy is—it’s, uh, it’s fine. Good, even. I like cheesy.”

Susie laughs—not a mean laugh but an amused one—and runs a hand down her face. “I thought I was a total dumbass for—you’re so goddamn nice. I didn’t think—I—I didn’t think you’d like me back in a million years.”

“Are you kidding?” says Noelle, sitting up straighter in her indignation. The shift of posture puts her face closer to Susie’s. Too close. Face filling with heat, Noelle shrinks back down but keeps looking at a flustered Susie. “I didn’t—I-I didn’t think you would ever like me back! _Why_ do you?”

As soon as she hears herself say _Why do you_ , the butterflies in Noelle’s stomach increase tenfold. It’s louder than she’d meant it, too, an explosion of sound, and she wishes she could swallow it—for a brief moment, she wishes she could take back ninety-five percent of the words she’s spoken today. She doesn’t want that, though. If she took those back, she wouldn’t be sitting here finding out her feelings are reciprocated. She shuts her eyes and sits back. After a beat filled only with the staticky breathing from the TV, she opens her eyes.

Susie is looking back at her, blue-tinted eyes big and uncertain. She scratches her neck. “There’s— there are lots of reasons,” she says, slow. Measured. “Fuck, uh. Do you want me to say ‘em? Out loud?” She doesn’t sound like she wants to say them out loud.

A pause. Noelle averts her gaze. “I—um, nnn… ot now?” she says, mostly because she thinks she’ll burst into flames if she has to listen to them right this second. She twiddles her fingers. “But I-I—maybe someday I’ll ask. Just so, uh, I can understand? And—and you can ask me, too.”

Susie’s shoulders relax, though Noelle catches the mild curiosity in her voice when she says, “Okay.”

“Okay,” echoes Noelle.

They sit there in silence for a beat, neither quite able to look each other in the eye but both grinning. Noelle is turning her head back to face the TV (she doesn’t even know what’s happened in the past few minutes, not that that bothers her) when—

“Wanna go out again sometime?”

Noelle whips her head around, almost slamming her antlers into Susie’s snout—she’s quick to shrink back, but she can’t make anything come out of her mouth. Susie blushes, and she lowers her head so her bangs fall into her eyes. Noelle’s brows furrow with the slightest irritation; she’d liked being able to finally see Susie’s eyes. (It may or may not have been something she’d daydreamed about before the day when Susie walked into class with them pulled back.) She reaches up to brush them back aside.

Her brain catches up to her hand when Susie’s eyes meet hers, and she jolts backward, stammering out a weak apology.

“I, uh,” she says after she manages to get a _sorry sorry sorry_ out. Susie still stares at her, expression shuttered, and Noelle feels a zig-zagging smile creep across her face. “I would really, um—I would r-really like that.”

Susie’s face breaks out in a similar grin to the one Noelle is sure she’s wearing right now. “Cool! Cool.”

Reality comes crashing back in when the next hapless victim screams through the crackling TV speakers. Noelle jumps at the noise again, but they both turn back to face the movie, flushed and smiling giddily to themselves. Susie takes Noelle’s hand in the quiet ensuing moment—a subtle, tentative thing. Noelle almost apologizes for how sweaty her hand is, then she realizes half the sweat she’s feeling is Susie’s. It makes her feel better.

Noelle reaches up to adjust the collar of Susie’s jacket with her free hand. When she’s satisfied with how it fits against her skin, she drops her hand to her lap to fidget with her skirt. She notches herself into Susie’s side. Susie’s arm falls around her, more pointed this time.

Noelle’s smile widens, and she turns to hide her face in Susie’s shoulder when the next scream sounds.

Everything is all right.

(Maybe Noelle will thank Kris tomorrow after all.)

**Author's Note:**

> thanks so much for reading!! i appreciate all kudos & comments!
> 
> [tumblr](http://dndbutch.tumblr.com) / [twitter](http://twitter.com/birdmarrow) / [pseudo-commissions](http://dndbutch.tumblr.com/post/179026101531/click-for-full-text-hey-so-ive-been-thinking) (writing slots are open!)
> 
> eta 11/18/18: noelle is on the cross country team, i have found out, so a couple lines have been tweaked accordingly!


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